


Darkness Gathers Around Grantaire

by terribletaire



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: M/M, Sad Grantaire, this is kinda depressing oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 20:53:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12218763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terribletaire/pseuds/terribletaire
Summary: Grantaire reminisced about last night’s meeting; the one when he got chucked out by the leader in red himself. It was entirely his own fault, of course. He had picked apart every fibre of Enjolras’ argument, reducing every valid point to rubble beneath their feet. He simply could not comprehend how the man could believe so vehemently in the failures of evolution: people. Humanity sucked.





	Darkness Gathers Around Grantaire

Another night alone. Alone with only the thoughts of a golden god who didn’t care for him at all. Enjolras, who projected passion vigorously over any small topic, couldn’t even spare him a second thought. Why couldn’t he just hate him and be done with it?

Grantaire pondered his hateful thoughts, wishing he had any kind of redeeming quality. But no. He simply had his alcoholism and nothing much else. Sure, he could paint sometimes. None of his paintings sold and why should they have? They were shit. To Enjolras, he was simply a rabble-rouser, incapable of believing, of thinking, of willing, of living, and of dying. This was why he was currently drowning his sorrows in a bottle of cheap liquor.

Grantaire reminisced about last night’s meeting; the one when he got chucked out by the leader in red himself. It was entirely his own fault, of course. He had picked apart every fibre of Enjolras’ argument, reducing every valid point to rubble beneath their feet. He simply could not comprehend how the man could believe so vehemently in the failures of evolution: people. Humanity sucked.

Sobs racked the woebegone cynic, wrenching his heart out of his chest and crushing it into thousands of tiny black fragments.  Clutching his bottle as if it was his lifeline (which in a way it was), Grantaire poured out his emotions as if they were alcohol-flavoured. He could not see the point of it all anymore. Of living.

But Enjolras existed.

Somehow, in the back of his mind, a nagging thought that maybe Enjolras tolerated him would not go away. It was bullshit, he was certain of that. But maybe?

In a sudden amalgamation of sadness, anger and hatred towards himself, Grantaire mustered up as much force as possible and threw the now-empty bottle hard against the wall. It shattered with the impact and he regretted the action instantly.

Then a knock sounded, a glow of hope in the all-consuming darkness of Grantaire’s existence. Groaning, he hoisted himself up, clinging to the sofa for support, and staggered towards the door.

Enjolras.

Grantaire was taken aback. Of all the people he expected to see at his door, Enjolras was definitely not one of them. His tousled aureate curls fell daintily over his shoulders. The sanguine jacket that Grantaire could wax poetry about was donned and Grantaire felt he was going to swoon, right there on the spot. That was when the god-like figure spoke.

“Can we talk?”

Grantaire found it extremely difficult not to stare at those perfect lips as they formed words. He almost didn’t catch what was being said.

Taking Grantaire’s silence as a yes, Enjolras edged into the room. Grantaire had scarcely closed the door when he began to speak again.

“About that meeting… I’m so sorry, Grantaire. I wasn’t thinking rationally at all. I shouldn’t have called you the things I did and I certainly shouldn’t have kicked you out.”

Grantaire could not believe his eyes or ears. Surely he was hallucinating? Surely Enjolras wasn’t here, in his shitty apartment, apologising for something that was not his thought at all? He closed his eyes and pinched himself hard on the arm. When he opened them again, Enjolras still remained in the room. He thought for a moment about what he should say before opening his mouth and tossing the words out into the air between them.

“It wasn’t your fault, Apollo. I was asking for it. I shouldn’t have said the things I said. I’m sorry too.”

Enjolras regarded him with a look, sensing that something was up with the other man. The pungent smell of alcohol wafted around the apartment.

“Are you okay? You seem to be drunker than usual.” He didn’t mean for the words to come out as disdainful and filled with contempt as they did.

Grantaire brushed his question away with a swift hand gesticulation. He was irritated that the only man he had ever adored had drifted into his apartment and insulted him in his own home.

“I can safely say I have never experienced the concept of being okay. There’s always something wrong with me. I blame myself, the world, and the one I love most ardently.”

Hastening a longing glance at Enjolras as he said the last phrase, Grantaire collapsed onto the sofa dejectedly. Why had he said that? If his true feelings towards Enjolras had escaped his notice before, they were evident now. Enjolras, however, took a few steps forward and perched himself on the sofa next to the shorter brunet. He took Grantaire’s hand in his and made eye contact, his piercing blue eyes filled with passion as if he was about to make one of his great speeches. And he was.

“Grantaire. Look, I know I may not have come across that friendly to you, especially not at meetings, but I want you to know that you can always talk to me. I don’t care what about. Hell, even arguing is better than no discourse at all. No one deserves to suffer alone – and I mean _no one._ You will get through this, I promise. I believe in you.”

Once again, Grantaire’s eyes filled with glistening tears that threatened to spill out in torrents, as uncontrolled as waterfalls. Unable to help himself, he embraced Enjolras, wrapping his arms around him and burying his face in his shoulder.

“Thank you,” he muttered into his shirt, “for being here with me.”

Surprisingly, Enjolras hugged him back, tentatively at first, then with more confidence. He ran the fingers of one hand through Grantaire’s dark curls and rubbed his back with his other. The intimate gesture set Grantaire off, and soon he was whimpering and sobbing, making the crisp fabric beneath him damp. He did not deserve this. His breathing became ragged and eventually he ran out of tears.

 Without consulting his judgement prior to performing the action, Enjolras pressed a kiss to his curls. Grantaire froze, unsure of what had just occurred.

“Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I just…” For the first time, the fearless leader was at a loss for words.

Grantaire glanced up at him, tear-tracks scintillating on his cheeks. He was unable to suppress a grin at the blond’s speechlessness. Enjolras, seeing that he had not upset Grantaire further, smiled softly back at him.

In the spur of the moment, Grantaire edged closer still. Enjolras’ smile was dazzling and Grantaire thought he had never looked so beautiful. If he did not do this now, he may not ever be in possession of another chance.

“Do you permit it?” R asked, still beaming widely.

The only response Enjolras gave him was a subtle nod. He clasped his hand again and smiled.

The smile had not ended when their lips met.

**Author's Note:**

> hi!! so this is the first fanfiction i've written. i know it's not that great but i wrote it at 3am oops. leave a comment if you want to or whatever :)


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